


The Seventh Kingdom

by can00k



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22451182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/can00k/pseuds/can00k
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen has conquered Westeros with Fire and Blood. Only the North is outside her control, and she marches with an army to finally reunite the Seven Kingdoms under a Targaryen banner. But she marches blindly to Winterfell, with no idea on who rules there. Rumors from refugees say the dead walk, and the last Stark wields a flaming sword against them. This is my take on how the books will proceed/end. Not show-verse. This is my first time writing, and am making it up as I go. Enjoy
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 24
Kudos: 36





	The Seventh Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is the first time I've tried my hand at writing. Forgive me if my formatting is weird, I have no idea what I'm doing. Please feel free to comment/provide any criticism! Enjoy

Daenerys Targaryen was weary of war. She has seen every single one of its myriad of brutal forms. From the grasses of the Dothraki Sea to the burning cities of Slaver's Bay, from the Sands of Dorne to the fetid swamps of the Neck. From atop the walls of Moat Cailen, she surveyed her army marching below her. Very little remained of her former army of Unsullied and freed slaves. Less than two thousand landed with her on the shores of the Dornish coast. Even less so survived the next two years of constant battles, raids, and sieges throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Thankfully she and her nephew Aegon had the talent of recruiting allies to their cause, a talent her brother Viserys lacked. The Dornish quickly rallied to her cause, eager to see the return of the Targaryen Dynasty and avenge the lives of Prince Oberyn, Elia Martell, and her children.

But to Dany's delight and joy, she had discovered that she wasn't the only surviving Targaryen to survive the Usurper's wrath. It was news of her nephew Aegon's landing in the Stormlands with the Golden Company that brought her from Meereen to the shores of Westeros. With the arrival of the Greyjoy fleet under Victarion's command, coupled with the mighty Khalasar of Khal Jhaqo, the siege of Meereen was lifted, and with it, news of the Targaryen banner being flown once again in Westeros had reached her.

Dany shifted, adjusting her black and red cloak around her shoulders. The winds of winter had only grown harsher the further north her army marched. From behind her, the voice of her most trusted advisor rang out.  
"Your Grace, standing atop the walls is not a wise decision. I am told a Crannogman can hit a target with a poisoned dart from 100 yards away." 

Dany smiled, and turned towards the small figure walking along the wall. "Would you weep for me if I were to die, Lord Lannister?" She called back. 

Tyrion Lannister chuckled and placed his hand over his heart. "I would weep a thousand times, drink a thousand bottles of wine, and write a thousand songs to commemorate your beauty!"

Arching her eyebrows, Dany waited until he stood next to her. "I conquer the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, rebirth the dragons back into this world and the only thing you would sing about is my beauty? My Lord Lannister, I am offended." 

"You haven't conquered the Seven Kingdoms yet" Tyrion shot back. "If you miscounted six kingdoms from seven, then I worry for the fate of the entire realm." 

Daenerys huffed and turned back to look over Moat Cailin and the Kingsroad. "The North shall submit to my rule just as quickly as Torrhen Stark did to Aegon the Conqueror. You've said that Roose Bolton is an intelligent man, not a brave one." Dany spied a large, dark shape winging its way towards the keep. "And with Drogon by our side, Roose Bolton is sure to make the intelligent decision."

Tyrion sighed and watched as the Winged Shadow circled around Moat Cailin and let loose a terrifying roar, startling many of the horses (and men) who rode below him.

"Your Grace, I am beginning to doubt that the Boltons remain in command of the North."

Daenerys turned her head sharply and frowned towards Tyrion. "What did you find in the keep?"

"Bodies, Your Grace. At least fifty of them, all in the dining hall, all clad in the Flayed Man of the Boltons." Tyrion shuddered. "No wounds visible on any of them. Maester Smythwick thinks they were poisoned, and I agree with him."

Dany looked back out into the swamps of the Neck. Old, gnarled trees grew short over the dark, fetid waters of the vast swamp.There were many places a man could hide and approach Moat Cailin unseen. Perhaps Tyrion was right about an assassin lurking about. "Do you think the Crannogmen are responsible? I've heard stories of their mastery of various poisons."

Tyrion nodded slowly. "All signs would point to it. The lord of Greywater Watch, Howland Reed, was a personal friend of Eddard Stark. Maybe he and his men rose up against the Boltons, to avenge the Starks. It seems likely that they would side with Stannis Baratheon." Tyrion adjusted the crimson cloak around his shoulders. "The last ravens King's Landing received from the Boltons brought word that Stannis was attempting to ally with any and all lords who were loyal to Starks. It seems likely that most had sent a great many of their sons and soldiers south with Robb Stark. Many of whom saw their end at the Red Wedding. I doubt the entirety of the North will soon forget that night, or the role the Boltons played in that massacre."

Daenerys turned northward, and looked towards the rolling hills and valleys of the Barrowlands. "So you think Stannis Baratheon sits at Winterfell?"

Tyrion shrugged and looked up at the young woman standing beside him. "At this point Your Grace, I have no idea. Stannis would have had a hard time getting the Northern lords to follow a Southern army, especially if the Wildlings fought for him, as the refugees are to be believed."

"How can one believe in their tales?" Dany scoffed "Each group that came from the North has rambled like madmen! Tales of the Children of the Forest, the dead rising, and giants roaming the hills! Just tales of panicked smallfolk, fleeing the snows of winter." Daenerys turned and began walking in the direction of the steps leading down into the courtyard, with Tyrion struggling to keep up.

"I know their tales may seem strange, but are they any stranger than a young girl walking into a roaring fire and hatching three dragons?" Tyrion's breath came out in white puffs as he quickly kept pace with the young queen. "The fact that all these groups of refugees, thousands of people from all over the North, all seem to tell the same tales. This suggests some grain of truth in their 'stories', Your Grace."

Dany paused at the top of the wooden steps leading down. "Oh? And what about the stories of the last Stark, rising from his grave, wielding a flaming sword against an army of White Walkers?" She smiled grimly "I'm sure the cold and lack of food made the smallfolk desperate, desperate enough to believe any rumor or whisper they hear."

Tyrion leaned against the wooden guardrail of the steps, silently cursing the daggers of freezing air coming into his lungs. "As a literal member of the smallfolk, I hope you don't automatically disregard everything I say." 

The edges of Dany's pale lips lifted slightly, as she regarded her advisor and friend fondly. "What kind of queen would I be if I didn't listen to the woes of the smallfolk under my protection?" 

"A very cruel and tyrannical queen." Tyrion started descending the stairs, one step at a time. "One who makes her less-physically capable advisor walk everywhere. Are you sure I can't have one of the dragons?"

Daenerys shook her head with a wry smile, following after Tyrion. "If it were possible my Lion, I would. But I'm fairly certain dragons eat lions, not let them ride on their backs. Besides with Viserion bonded with Aegon, and Drogon with me, I seem to be out of any spares." Dany felt a twinge in her chest. 

Tyrion looked back, a sympathetic expression on his face, or as sympathetic a man with half a nose can look. "Still no word of Rhaegal, then?"

Dany shook her head. The green-and-bronze dragon had disappeared not long after Daenerys marched on King's Landing, nearly a year ago. "Varys has gotten word of scattered sightings, ranging from the Riverlands to the Vale. Sheep and horses found roasted and eaten, smallfolk fleeing to holdfasts and castles. But the lords are too slow or too afraid to locate him. There's been no new sightings for months." She quickly stepped down the last few steps into the courtyard, the soldiers marching through casting quick glances at their queen.

Quickly stepping up to her, Tyrion placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on Daenerys' forearm. "I'm sure he's just out exploring his new home. Drogon left you for a couple months in Mereen, but he came back when you needed him. I'm certain Rhaegal will do the same."

Daenerys gave a faint smile to Tyrion, but she didn't think Rhaegal would be back anytime soon. According to the legends of her house, dragons only allowed one human to be bonded with them at one time. Any human who tried to ride a dragon that wouldn't accept them, or was already bonded with another were quickly (and often fatally) taught a cruel lesson. With Drogon bonded with her, Daenerys was worried that her connection with Viserion was gone. And with there being no more Targaryens left (Varys assured her that he wasn't hiding any more relatives), Rhaegal wouldn't bond with anyone until she or Aegon had a child.

Grimacing at the thought of children, Dany turned her head and saw a group of her soldiers carrying the bodies of the Bolton troops out of Moat Cailin's keep. “I need to know who is in power in these lands, or if we’re marching into a civil war. Double the amount of scouting parties, we need more information if I am to bring the North to heel.”

Tyrion sighed. “I will send them out as soon as this castle is secure, we nee-”

“We are not staying here. We march at daybreak tomorrow” Daenerys interjected.

Tyrion gaped at her. “But Your Grace, Moat Cailin is a defensible position! We can send scouts out and wait to hear back on who’s holding Winterfell and what defenses they have!”

Shaking her head, Daenerys gazed northward. The swamps of the Neck stretched out for leagues but in the distance, she could see the rolling, snow-covered hills of the North. “I have five thousand soldiers, three thousand Dothraki, and Drogon. It doesn’t matter who holds Winterfell. They will kneel, or they will burn. The only thing that can slow us is the snow.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aachoo!” Jon Snow sneezed. 

“Har! Did you all hear that?!” Tormund bellowed. “Lord Crow sneezes like a little girl! Harhar-HURK” 

Val grinned at Jon while Tormund was gasping for air after she swung the haft of her spear into his stomach. “Aye, but it was a cute sneeze Lord Crow, have no fear. 

Feeling his face burn, Jon turned and began to walk away. But not before hearing Tormund wheeze “Har, he blushes like a girl too! No, fuck off Va-HURK”


End file.
